


You're All Mine

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Bon Jovi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Angst, Graphic Description, M/M, Monsters Who Don't Understand Emotions But Are Trying Their Best, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26546353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Even monsters want to try and make peace.
Relationships: Jon Bon Jovi/Richie Sambora
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	You're All Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very random one-shot that I wrote in twelve minutes. Be gentle.

Sometimes, it was easy to lose track of what mattered most. 

And so, with that in mind, Richie went back to the hotel. 

It was dawn. 

The pretty receptionist behind the counter smiled politely. "I'm not allowed to say." She replied, just like that. Her nametag read 'Jenny', and her hair, which was a spectacular shade of red, was pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head. 

Richie smiled at her. "But I'm his friend." He said, hoping that his charm was still a bright spark in his dark eyes. "Can't you make an exception for friends?" 

Like a fish pulling back against the hook, Jenny resisted for a moment more, not quite ready to give in just yet. "I don't know, sir..." She trailed off, unsure. 

But like the persistent fisherman, Richie fought harder. "I can put in a good word with your boss." He said, words practically dripping with the bribery, sweet words. 

The room number was given quickly afterwards. 

Richie took the elevator, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet anxiously, watching as the number went up and up until, finally, he reached the desired third floor. 

The carpeting was a pale beige, like cream, and the walls were black. 

Hallway, long and stretched. 

Doors, all with the numbers etched in gold lettering. 

Richie walked, and walked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he glanced at the numbers, awaiting until he saw the intended combination. There was no feasible way to get inside unless Jon let him in, because even Jenny, weak and fallible, knew perfectly well that giving keys out on a whim, even to people who claimed to be friends, was an invitation to get fired and possibly jailed. 

But Jon would let him in, Richie was sure of that. 

Finally, the gold lettering read **342,** and Richie smiled at the sight, like it was a prized treasure. 

He knocked, listening to the hollow echo, and waited patiently for the expected welcoming. Jon might be angry, confused, scared, maybe, but there was no question as to where his loyalties resided. 

The door unlocked. 

Richie smiled, and went inside, careful to close the door behind him and listening as it closed completely and was swiftly locked. The room was, as always, neat, expensive, nicely decorated. Jon never pulled his punches, especially when it came to money, which he certainly didn't lack. 

Jon was in bed, his hands folded on his chest. "I'm dreaming." He said detirminedly, sharp and tense. 

Richie laughed, a deep rumble in his throat. "This is not a dream." He corrected. "You're very much awake." 

The truth hurt, and Jon flinched. "No, I'm not."

With a casual shrug, Richie walked across the room. He sat down on the bed, reaching out and trailing one of his fingers across Jon's forearm. The younger man shivered, grit his teeth, pulled away, blue eyes wide and untrusting. 

Richie frowned. "Don't be like that." He said, and a little bit of a hoarse snarl creeped into his voice, distorting it, and Jon closed his eyes tightly, like a child who thought that it was all just a bad nightmare and that they would wake up soon when, in reality, they would never wake up again. "Come on, Jonny, you're my best friend." 

It was a childlike plea, usually said with wide-eyed wonder, now uttered with a sort of taunting glee. Richie raised his hand and gently dragged it through Jon's blonde hair, practically breathing in the fear that seeped from the human, whispers and whimpers. 

Flickers of memories reached Richie's subconscious- 

_A man screaming._

_Flesh ripping, mucles tearing._

_And Jon staring, torn between running or screaming._

"I'd never hurt you." Richie said, with as much sincerity as a truth could hold. "I would never hurt David, or Tico, or Hugh, or Alec. I love you guys." He added, hoping that the placation would assure Jon of the continued affection that Richie felt for him. 

Humans had such funny emotions. 

"If this is a dream, I want to wake up." Jon said, slowly opening his eyes, as if risking to believe, if only this one time. "God, I want to wake up." His voice was muffled with the threat of tears, and Richie hated it, not knowing what to do. 

He leaned down, and gently, almost tenderly, kissed Jon's cheek. "It's okay." Richie said. "I won't hurt you." 

"No..." Jon moaned, covering his eyes. 

"Don't be scared." Richie said, stroking the younger man's arms. "You don't have to be scared." 

_Because you're all mine._


End file.
